Enforcer (50 page)

“I’m sorry,” Connor said.

“I don’t want to cry again,” she said.

Jera reached for Connor’s hand. Their fingers meshed into a single entity.

“This is the only way. You have to leave. I’m paying him tomorrow. I want you long gone.”

“Where am I going to go?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to know. If you love me, truly love me, you won’t tell me. You’ll get out of this car and I’ll drive away. You’ll get on a plane and forget you ever lived here. Forget about me.”

“I can’t forget you,” she whispered. “I don’t want to.”

“You have to.” Connor looked away. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you.”

They sat for a while, holding hands, Jera’s head leaning on Connor’s shoulder. He stared at the top of her head, hoping for one last desperate revelation to come to him so he wouldn’t have to send her away. His mind seemed to be stuck in a constant loop of despair, shifting back and forth between the old wound of Dana being sent away, and now Jera following in her footsteps. He felt Jera’s grip tighten at the same instant she began to cry again.

“I don’t think I can do this,” she said between sobs.

“You have to,” Connor said, his voice gentle. He nudged her away to look in her eyes. “You’ll be fine. You’ve got enough money to start over. Tough out the withdrawals, get back to school, have a real life.”

Jera wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. “You make it sound like I’m going off to college.”

“I’m not saying it will be easy,” he said. He caressed her cheek with his fingertips. “I know it won’t be that easy. Anytime you get down, anytime you want to use again, anytime you want to quit school, run away from your problems, remember that you could be dead instead. You
would
be dead if you didn’t get on a plane to nowhere and get the fuck out of this horror show.”

Jera kissed the edge of his palm, then his fingers. He felt his resolve breaking down, desperation and panic flooding his thoughts. He cupped her chin and squeezed hard enough for her to cry out. They stared into each other’s eyes for an eternity, Connor willing her to do whatever had to be done for her to survive once she was away from Boise, away from Ojacarcu, away from Connor.

“Come on,” he said, breaking eye contact with her and exiting the Lincoln, knowing that he would have to be the one to force her to leave.

“I love you,” Jera said softly to the empty air where Connor had been seconds before.

Connor grabbed her duffel bag from the back seat. She accepted it from him, afraid to say anything, afraid she would cry again. She swung the bag’s strap up onto her shoulder and turned to walk away.

“Wait.”

Jera turned back and let him engulf her in his arms one last time, praying inside that their kiss would never end. She felt him break away, and watched him walk back to the Lincoln. He didn’t turn around to look at her until he was behind the wheel. They stared at each other until Connor gave her a sad little wave. She finally turned and walked towards the double glass entrance doors. Connor waited until Jera entered the airport terminal before he pulled away from the curb and headed home.

CHAPTER 42

Petre answered the knock on the office door, allowing Connor past him before glancing out into the hallway. He didn’t know what was about to happen, only that he’d been called in along with Vadim, Dracul, Pavel and Ovidiu. Petre closed the door and turned around to see Dracul set the bag Connor had brought with him on an empty shelf. Dracul unzipped the bag, rummaged through it thoroughly, then zipped it up and carried it to Ojacarcu’s desk.

Ojacarcu pulled the bag across the desk and dropped it into a drawer. He watched Connor, the young man a statue in front of his desk.

“So now what?” Connor asked, unable to stand more than a minute of silence.

He was aware of the four men spread out behind him, sure that a bullet would impact his skull just before the explosion of a gun would shatter his eardrums.
At least I won’t have to hear what it sounds like to die
, he thought. Ojacarcu smiled and pulled open another drawer, bringing out Connor’s contract. He pulled a pen from the drawer as well, resting it on top of the papers before sliding both across the polished surface. Connor glanced the contract, then back at his boss. He grabbed the pen and signed his name with a shaky hand. The smile on Ojacarcu’s face as he slid the contract back reminded him of the spider in his nightmare. He imagined two massive fangs hiding inside of the man’s mouth.

“Miss Gellner is now officially free,” Ojacarcu said, sliding the contract into a drawer before leaning back.

Dracul nested his automatic in Connor’s back, his other hand on Connor’s shoulder to steer him around to the door. Connor caught the slightest glance from Petre before Dracul roughly shoved him forward. It was a look that promised things were going to end badly.

*****

“Get your fucking hands off me!” Connor yelled. He pulled away from Dracul and spun around to find the pistol jammed into his upper lip. He looked over the Romanian’s shoulder at Ojacarcu, just getting out of the Lincoln. “What the fuck is this?”

The second Lincoln divulged its passengers, three clones wearing the same expensive suits, and Jera. She was so consumed by fear that her skin was no longer the dark, smoky shade he’d always been fascinated with. She looked as if she had been living underground for decades. Her eyes were wide with fright at being let out of the car in the middle of a half-built warehouse.

Connor had never been to this place before, but could guess at the location of it according to the route they had driven. He’d fought back panic as they crossed the intersection that would take them to the landfill. They’d turned north on 55 until a side road led them back into an industrial park that looked as if it had sat unfinished for twenty years.

The Romanians formed a line, Dracul becoming part of it as he stepped away from Connor. Petre grabbed Jera’s arm and marched her to stand next to Connor. Connor tried to gauge Petre’s reaction to what was happening. From the short, hard look Petre gave him when he let go of Jera’s arm, Connor realized that there was nothing left of his life beyond the few minutes it would take to play the scenario out. Jera clutched his arm, her body a quivering mass of cold flesh and hot sweat.

“Why the fuck are you here?” he asked Jera, his voice drowning in panicked rage.

“I’m sorry!” Jera sobbed. “They were waiting for me at the airport. They told me if I made a scene they would make you disappear, a small piece at a time.”

“I am afraid that there’s a problem with our arrangement,” Ojacarcu said, interrupting them. He took a step forward from the line his men had formed. “And when there’s a problem, we cannot let it escape so easily.” The older man nodded toward Jera. She began to shiver as her chest hitched up and down.

“Of course there is,” Connor said, looking at the Romanian. “There’s always a problem.”

“Connor, you hurt me when you act this way,” Ojacarcu said, his face genuinely pained. “We’ve all tried to educate you on the rules, the respect that must be given to your peers and your employer.”

“Cut the bullshit,” Connor said. “Just get to the point so we can get this over with.”

“Very well. Miss Gellner’s debt was paid, but I’m wondering… how exactly did you two put together that kind of money? I know you’ve been a good little saver, Connor, but unless you were taking jobs on the side, or taking a cut of the jobs you were doing, there’s no way you could have come up with that much.”

Connor said nothing, knowing that his boss would arrive at the real accusation soon enough.

“Or were you two working together?” Ojacarcu rubbed his chin. “She’s worth a lot more than you in terms of liquid cash potential.” He looked at Jera. “Were you taking extra clients on the side?”

Jera tightened her grip on Connor’s arm, staring at the dirt floor. He could still feel her shaking, her soft crying barely audible other than a loud sniffle every few seconds.

“But then there’s the mysterious case of Mr. Fallon and his inability to make a payment. I have to tell you, Connor, that while Dracul was sure you were the cause of that, I actually believed you. You two put on a perfect display for me. For everyone. I was sure Dracul only suspected you because of his dislike for you.”

Connor’s fists were clenched at his sides, his mind delirious with fear at his impending death. The fear of knowing that it would be Dracul killing him in various, brutal ways. He’d begun to hate Ojacarcu the day his boss handed him the slip of paper with the symbol for murder on it. He hated that he was now the prey, waiting for the man to complete his predatory ritual. Connor wondered if it was mostly as a show of power to his men, or whether it was something he genuinely amused him.

“You made me apologize to him!” Ojacarcu screamed at him.

His sudden change of demeanor from calm to enraged scared Connor more than the shout. He felt Jera’s body convulse in fear from the outburst. His own heart felt like it was hammering its way out of his chest with a pickax.

“I was going to let Dracul play with you while she watched, then let you watch her be passed around,” Ojacarcu said, his voice calm again as if the outburst had never happened. “Instead, and against Dracul’s vociferous protests, I’m going to give you one chance, and one chance only, to choose what the future holds for you.”

“Is that your ‘word of the day?’” Connor asked.

“Foarte bine!” Ojacarcu said. “Would you like to know what it means?”

“It means Dracul thinks you are stupid for thinking you can control me, instead of just killing me.”

Connor looked at the Romanian. Dracul’s pistol was still pointed at him, a hint of a smile on one side of his mouth, the beginnings of a snarl on the other. Connor’s nightmares were Saturday morning cartoons compared to the fear the hulking Romanian filled him with.

“Is that true, Dracul?” Ojacarcu asked. Dracul gave one short nod of his head, never taking his eyes from Connor. “Of course you do. So do I, to be honest. But after today, no matter which path you choose, there will be no turning back.”

The other four Romanians drew their guns, checking them to make sure safeties were off and chambers were loaded. Connor looked at Petre, but his friend was a blank slate, face devoid of humanity. Connor decided the man had already shut his emotions down to be able to do his job. That realization forced him to use every last ounce of willpower to keep from pissing himself. Petre’s stories had become his life.

“And which paths am I going to get to choose from?” Connor asked, voice cracking, making Dracul grin. Pavel and Ovidiu both barked a short laugh before Dracul turned a glare on them.

“One path is a quick, clean death,” Ojacarcu said, hands clasped together in front. “If this is the path you wish to walk down, just say the word and we can be done with this business.”

“And the other one…?” Connor asked.

“You can prove your loyalty and keep your nice, cushy, secure position as the fan favorite of the Boise Bombers.”

“And keep my other ‘job?’”

“Keep it?” Ojacarcu laughed. “You’ll get a raise. With loyalty comes more responsibility, and with more responsibility comes greater rewards.” He narrowed his eyes at Connor. “If you perform well at your duties.”

“And how do I prove my loyalty?” Connor asked, already knowing the answer.

Ojacarcu gestured to Vadim, who produced a knife with a long, tapered blade. Connor knew he couldn’t judge the knife from that distance, but he was sure the knife was sharp enough to cut through flesh without resistance. Vadim walked toward Connor and Jera, the knife handle out to Connor, the pistol in his other hand steady on them at chest level. Connor stared at Vadim for a few seconds before taking the knife. The Romanian quickly backed off, rejoining the line of his fellow bodyguards.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked, knowing how the story ended but trying to buy time. He was sure Petre wouldn’t have let it slip to Ojacarcu that Connor knew how things were done in the old country.

“I think you know what needs to be done. She was a good earner, but her debt is paid, Unfortunately, we can’t allow her to accidentally, or purposely, mention anything that she has seen. She doesn’t know much, unlike you Connor, unless you’ve been telling her things?” Connor shook his head. “Regardless, what she does know would be more than enough to make some authorities interested in us. All of us.”

“I wouldn’t say anything!” Jera yelled, understanding that Petre’s tale was now her life as well, and she had been thrust into the role of Ilinca. She felt immense hate toward Dana for already snatching Helen’s part away. Her hand slid down Connor’s arm as she fell to her knees, a broken mess of sobbing and sniffling. She refused to let go of his hand.

“I know you believe that,” Ojacarcu said, his soothing tone sounding genuine. “But we all know better. We’ve been in this business far too long. There are already authorities sniffing around. They’ve visited Connor twice already that we know of.”

Connor tensed, wondering if he’d been followed, and if so, how often. He thought of Petre’s contact within the bureau, wondering if it was how Ojacarcu knew about Gauthier and Kline paying him a second visit. Connor decided that it was more likely Ojacarcu had kept a close tab on him. He’d given his boss more than a few reasons to be suspicious.